


so you pulled my heart out and I don’t mind bleeding

by likeiambreathing



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Excessive smoking, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 15:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1863357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeiambreathing/pseuds/likeiambreathing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perhaps he should have been surprised to find Eponine standing outside his apartment, scowling with her arms clutching around her waist, but he wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so you pulled my heart out and I don’t mind bleeding

Montparnasse had been sprawled out on the couch in his living room, fucking around with the switchblade he’d stolen earlier that day from a shop. It had red roses painted onto it, which matched his favourite pair of boots, so of course he had to get it. And of course, paying for it was a minor detail he didn’t bother with. Anyways, why pay when you can get away with stealing, right?

He was debating getting something to eat, not remembering if he’d actually eaten yet today. Oops? He figured that the caffeine should balance it out, hopefully. He had coffee several times that day, so he wouldn’t pass out or anything.

Just as he was deciding if it was worth the effort to get up and make more coffee, there was knocking coming from his door. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was somehow already a bit after four in the morning.

Montparnasse sighed and swung the door open, stretching and certainly not cringing when his back cracked loudly.

Perhaps he should have been surprised to find Eponine standing outside his apartment, scowling with her arms clutching around her waist, but he wasn't.

He raised a brow, and she wordlessly waved a pack of cigarettes in the air, smirking a bit.

“One moment,” he said, searching for his jacket and tugging on his boots. “Do you have a lighter on you?”

“Of course,” she looked around his apartment curiously. “Parents out again?”

“Of course.” He deadpanned, knowing she knew what it meant if they weren’t home – that they probably hadn’t been for a week or two at least, off doing something highly illegal. Not that he minded. They weren’t very parental anyways.

Shoving his switchblade in his back pocket, he followed her outside, closing the door behind him.

“Park?” She asked, tugging a hand through her extraordinarily messy hair. It was nearly down to her waist now, Montparnasse noticed.

He nodded, and they began to walk in silence. The air smelled of rain from the earlier storm, and there were large puddles every few feet. He loved it like this, and hoped it would turn into a thunder storm later on.

They reached the park quickly, seeing as it was only a five or six minute walk from ‘Parnasse’s apartment building. Him and Eponine went there sometimes at night for smoke breaks or the occasional desperate hook-up, despite there not being anywhere very comfortable for the latter activity. That night, though, they were there for the first reason, so they immediately walked over to the swings.

Montparnasse sat on the left one like he always did, stretching his long legs in front of him. Eponine fiddled with her pack, tearing off the plastic and grabbing a cigarette, lighting up quickly before handing the pack and lighter to Montparnasse.

He had a cigarette lit and in his mouth in one smooth gesture, perfected from what some may call excessive practice. While he wasn’t one of those douchebags who smoked to “look cool”, he sure as hell didn’t want to look like an idiot, either.

Image was important to him.

Glancing over at Eponine, he saw her gazing steadily ahead, frowning at the small parking lot they were facing.

She was probably the thinnest person he’d ever met, all sharp angles and protruding bones, even though she ate regularly. After all, her parents may be creepy assholes, but they didn’t starve her. She just had a small frame, and her height (rounding off at about 5’2, compared to Montparnasse’s 6’0) and flat-chest probably didn’t help, though if you brought up either of those things, ‘Ponine would make sure you left that conversation with a broken nose, at the very least.

He’d seen her fight before, and wouldn’t admit it, but he was proud of how good she was in a fight - which, he realized, was probably a weird thing to be proud of, but oh well.

Montparnasse, lost in thought, hadn’t noticed Eponine turning her head and realizing he was staring at her. She scowled at him now, and he scowled back, putting out the cigarette on the metal pole of the swing and lighting another.

“So,” He said after he was down to the filter on his second cigarette, drawling out the word. “Are we gonna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Eponine said, voice sharp and defensive.

“Why we’re smoking at a park at-” he glanced at the floral watch on his wrist, “4:32 in the morning?”

She rolled her eyes, but it seemed more out of reflex than annoyance. “I never make you talk about shit.”

“No, you try. I’m just better at bullshitting than you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you too, darling. Now tell me.”

She sighed, fiddling with the pack instead of grabbing another smoke. “My parents friends were just over again. Being creepy assholes, saying gross things, you know how it usually is.”

Montparnasse was glaring at his shoes, only looking up when Eponine stopped talking.

She was shaking. He had a feeling it was only a little bit from the cold air, but her being cold was the only problem he could really solve, so he shrugged off his coat and handed it to her.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, pulling it on. She practically drowned in it, the sleeves going far past her hands.

He nodded, kicking his boots against the ground.

They sat in silence for a moment, Montparnasse mentally planning violent and easily possible deaths for Eponine’s parents and their friends, when cold fingers reached over and grabbed his wrist, holding it up for inspection.

He was confident enough not to pull away like he kind of wanted to and cocky enough to not give her the satisfaction, though he knew she wouldn’t be satisfied either way. It was just his normal reaction to anyone, at this point. Besides, ‘Ponine had seen his scars before, she knew they were there.

Eponine had her bottom lip trapped between her teeth, staring at the healed white scars that were further up his arm and the new, angrily red ones near his wrist.

He half-expected her to say something, anything. Instead, because she was Eponine and just as fucked up as he was, she slid her hand down and tangled their fingers together, her gnawed-down nails and his bruised knuckles from too many fights.

“I could kill them for you, you know.” He said, only half-joking. She knew, too.

Eponine laughed, and it sounded almost real this time. “If only.”

He shrugged, “It’s always a possibility.”

“Yeah, well, with the guys you hang out with, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

He chuckled, trying not to smooth circles into her knuckles with the tips of his fingers.

A while later, they both let go of each other to light new cigarettes. The entire pack was empty by the time they decided to head back.

He’d been right when he thought it was going to storm, because when it was nearing 5:30, rumbling could be heard in the distance. Moments later, rain was pouring down all around them.

They ran back to his apartment, both of them completely soaked when they finally opened the door and stood dripping in the doorway.

Eponine laughed, wringing out her hair, looking younger than she had in ages. It was hard to believe she was only seventeen. Hard for Montparnasse himself to believe that _he_ was only seventeen.

Walking to his room, he changed into a pair of dry boxers, not bothering with a shirt, and chucked the wet clothes into a pile on the floor. Without even thinking about it, he grabbed the only pair of sweat pants he had and a t-shirt, handing them to Eponine back in the living room.

“You can stay here tonight,” he said, as if she wasn't going to anyways.

They knew each other too well to be modest or embarrassed, so she got changed in the middle of the living room, following Montparnasse back into his room afterwards and throwing her sopping clothes onto the pile. He waited for her to put her cigarette pack and lighter onto his dresser, climbing onto the side of the bed against the wall, as always, and laid next to her.

Too exhausted to do anything but sleep, he stuck to his side of the bed, closing his eyes.

Eponine mumbled out a, “Night, ‘Parnasse.” 

“Night, ‘Ponine.”

Ten minutes later Montparnasse was sure Eponine had fallen asleep, but then her hand moved towards his under the covers, her fingers resting on top of his.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if montparnasse is really ooc fuck
> 
> title from lonely boy by the black keys (which is a song i really like for parnasse/eponine oops)


End file.
